5:30 Saturday Morning, a CB songfic
by valthestampede
Summary: A perfect song for Faye's feelings after Spike left. Beautiful song, beautiful moment. Spoilers, Faye's POV. PG for minor swearing.


**K, I was listening to Lennon and musing on Cowboy Bebop when it hit me. This song is absolutely perfect for Faye! So I wrote this out at one in the morning. Usually my Cowboy Bebop fics involve Spike and Faye falling in love somehow, but this was just too beautiful of an opportunity to pass up. Oh, and I don't own Cowboy Bebop, or 5:30 Saturday Morning. This describes what went on with Faye after Spike's final departure in episode 26. ~~this is in the song~~**  
  
  
  
  
5:30 Saturday Morning   
Written by Lennon Murphy  
A songfic for Cowboy Beobop  
  
  
  
~~We fell in love at first glance  
And our eyes met  
And our heart's raced~~  
  
Or at least mine did. Since I first saw you, I fell... intoxicated, like you were a drug. Hell, maybe you were. Maybe that's why I kept coming back. Despite everything you put me through, I just kept coming back. Oh sure, I'd act all bravado, but I really cam back for you.  
  
~~But nothing ever last in this life so it ends there  
And I'm sittin here  
With a bottle of wine in one hand  
And a cigarette in the other  
The only thing on my body is an impression of you~~  
  
But then you left. You're not coming back, I know it. But just because I know it doesn't mean I have to believe it. I can believe whatever I want. I can believe that you'll come back, and then you'll smile at me. Just at me. Just for me. My belief keeps me here, with my burnt out cigarette that I forgot was there a long time ago and my empty bottle of liquor that I don't have the interest to replace, and I'm just sitting here, believing.  
  
~~So maybe I'm not a dreamer  
But I'm to realistic to ask myself that~~  
  
You were always dreaming. And I couldn't share that dream. I wanted to, so badly that it hurt. I wanted to be your dream. But... she always was. I don't begrudge her, I'm not jealous or anything. I gave that up long ago, but I still can't help but ask, 'What if what I believe comes true?' Ha, I know it won't. Even if you do come back, which you won't, you won't dream of me, ever.  
  
~~Maybe you were lookin at me  
But I'd see her behind my shoulder~~  
  
Even if I did feature in your dreams, even if you did spare me a glance, you'd really be dreaming of her, seeing her reflected in me in some inferior way. I could never be as good as her. Something from Shakespeare caught my memory: Fiend angelic. Ah yes, I had once described her as an angel from the underworld. Poetic, I wonder where that had come from. I'm usually not poetic, or delicate, or anything like that, really. So even if you did look at me, it wouldn't be for long.  
  
~~So with this bottle of wine in one hand  
And the cigarette in the other  
The only thing on my body is an impression of you  
Some impression of you~~  
  
Impressions. Fleeting glances. I remember your lopsided smile, your annoyed expression when Ein bared at you for food, the surprised look on your face when I told you about Julia. You were so shocked. I remember your crumpled blue suit, your fuzzy hair, your mismatched eyes. I remember your elaborate schemes to catch bounties, your graceful movements when you fought, your compassionate heart that always foiled your elaborate schemes. I remember the way you looked when I flew away from you that first time. I was in my ship, and I had taken your money, but you just smiled and called my Romani. Just smiled. I remember your voice when you said that, so full and beautiful. But mostly I remember your smile.  
  
~~It's a little cold where I'm sitting  
Yet it seemed so warm up there  
And the emotions just pouring through  
But I don't know from who or where~~  
  
Suddenly I'm cold. I remember your warm smile, and I just go cold. And then the tears start to come. Silently pouring down my face, to drift down my cheeks and plummet to my bare legs, making tiny pools; but I make no effort to wipe them away, I just let them flow. I don't know where they're coming from, but they don't care, they come all the same, as I think and believe of you.  
  
~~And with this bottle of wine in one hand  
And a cigarette in the other  
The only thing on my body in an impression of you  
That damned impression of you~~  
  
Now I'm crying out loud, but in anger. 'Damn you, damn you, damn you!' You make me feel such pain, and I bet you don't care. Of course you would never feel anything for me. You're just to good, you and you're damn 'perfect woman'. You don't care for my pain, my suffering, I should have left when I didn't care about you, when it was still safe. right now I hate you. You made me feel pain, made me fall in love with you.  
  
~~We fell in love at first glance  
When our eyes met  
And our heart's raced.~~  
  
I would like to think that you loved me too, but I know you didn't. You leaving proved it beyond a doubt. But there was a second, when I left you, and you called me Romani, that our eyes met, and I thought, maybe just maybe, that you liked me. But I guess I'm just fooling myself. You never loved me, I'm just dreaming. But I can sit here, and believe.  
  
"Spike..."  
  
~Fin~  
  
  
  
  
**So there you go. Wadn't that a good song? So it wasn't exactly perfect, but if you hear the piano, and her voice... it really is perfect. She sounds exactly like Faye would sound. So, what'd you think? Was it OK, bad, terrible, horrible, disgusting, or a crime against literature?** 


End file.
